Part Seven
"Oh my God, Toby, I just wanted to go drop this little harmless bag of trash into the outside disposal unit… thing. I'm not going to hurt myself, strain anything, or be kidnapped in the hallway, Toby. I don't need a guard dog!" CJ finally exploded. She'd remained calm and quiet for two days, glaring at him from the corner of her eye as he hovered. He'd walked her to the bathroom that morning, put her to bed the night before, and refused to let her roam from his sights – even to speak in confidence with her brothers or tell her father goodnight. "This is ridiculous! You're driving me crazy. I'm not going to break!"
William and Matthew looked upward and gave a collective groan, as CJ glared at Toby as if he were some sort of poisonous dart frog – green, red, and slimy. Their father chuckled, recalling his Claudia's childhood audacity and her now hormonally driven and shortened temper.
Toby sighed to himself and frowned, preparing to list all of the reasons that she shouldn't be left alone, the possibilities, fears, and useless but incessant worrying. He opened his mouth to begin his lecture, but made the mistake of catching her eyes and saw the undeniable tempest brewing there, just waiting to spew forth. He watched warily as she calmly set the small paper-filled trash bag at her feet, righted herself, and crossed her arms, preparing for battle.
Okay, Toby thought, maybe not allowing her to pick up wrapping paper by herself was going a little far, or maybe it was closing the windows and blinds in the bathroom before she went to relieve herself that did it. Pregnant women, Toby had learned, had to go frequently, and God help the idiot who stood in their way.
"CJ," Toby mumbled, bowing his head in an almost defeated gesture, "I think I might have overreacted."
"Might?" she questioned calmly, her slipper-clad foot beginning to tap ominously against the hardwood floor.
"Okay, yeah, I did overreact," he held up a hand, halting the speech he knew was coming. "I just, you know, worry," his voice lowered to a whisper only she could hear, "I love you, CJ."
The four men, three unsure what had it caused it, watched as she wavered, rolled her eyes, and let a faint smile cross her lips. Her hands dropped and CJ took one of his in her own, placing it flat against her belly as Rachel again made her presence known.
"She doesn't like it when you annoy me, Toby, and that," she indicated the kicking, "continuous and sometimes painful jolting makes me cranky and tired."
He nodded, eyes wide and innocent-looking as his hands roamed around in gradually growing concentric circles. "She's calming down."
"Yes," CJ smiled faintly, "she knows her Daddy is begging for forgiveness."
"Begging?" his eyebrows arched upward, matching his quirky grin.
"Yes, begging," she flirted, "feel free to continue," CJ stretched upward on her toes, "I'm not complaining.
"I'm aware of that, CJ, but your Dad's watching, and uhm, you know," he paused, face flushing a light shade of red.
"Aww… I'm sorry, Toby, I didn't mean to embarrass you," she placed a chaste kiss on his cheek, and pulled at the hem of her sweater so that it fell evenly at mid-thigh.
Toby shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans looking very much the guilty schoolboy as his flush faded beneath his beard.
"Hey…" he muttered, "I have an idea."
CJ turned and arched her left eyebrow, hands placed on her hips as she watched him expectantly, tongue tracing her lips. "Go on."
"Dinner, we'll go out to dinner. Maybe you'll feel better if we get out of the house for a while," he smiled winningly and was unprepared for the annoyed swat that came his way. "What?" Toby asked, defensively.
"It would make me feel better if you'd stop," she began, voice raising, but sighed and shook her head, "never mind." CJ threw up her hands, then relaxed, pausing to stare at him for another moment. "Dinner sounds nice."
"William, Matthew, Mr. Cregg? What time would be…?" Toby began as she turned, walking slowly back to the bedroom with a hand on the small of her back.
"Whenever's fine," William smiled, and was promptly elbowed by his father.
"Are you sure you don't want to have her to yourself? I know we're imposing."
"No, no you're not imposing, and please, join us. I…" Toby ran a hand through his remaining hair, "want her to be happy, safe."
William chuckled, "Watching her like a hawk will only piss her off," he reminded with a devilish glint in his eye.
"I know, I know. I worry."
"Seven?" the oldest interrupted, intent on breaking up the kangaroo- court-style argument before it had begun. The tiniest of smiles crossed his face as he remembered how obnoxious he'd been when his wife was pregnant – with their daughter especially. Funny, he thought, it didn't seem like forty years ago, and his face displayed a wistful expression as he thought of his long-gone wife and evenings spent in Napa, playing with his children in grass that he'd let grown too tall.
"Seven," Toby confirmed, then departed for the kitchen to fetch the beer Matthew had asked for, and William stood to his feet.
"I'm going to tell CJ, you know how women are, she'll need a few hours," he grinned, then snuck down the hall, reminded of days past when he'd done much the same – only to pounce with a childlike abandon and tickle her mercilessly, only stopping when she'd cried 'Uncle' until her throat hurt. Of course, he recalled, she'd outgrown him easily and the tables were eventually turned.
"My best friend" he thought to himself, before cracking open her bedroom door. "Beanpole?" When he received no response, he pushed the door open, panic insanely flooding him, and he grinned when he saw her.
The Middle Cregg lay in the middle of the bed she shared with her fiancé, curled on her side and facing the door, fast asleep with a rather pleased sort of expression on her face. The covers lay at her feet and her hair had fallen over her closed eyes, so he stepped forward and swept the strawberry blond locks from her eyes and pulled the blanket up to her chin. Fleetingly, he allowed his hand to rest over hers, then leaned down and kissed her forehead.
"You'll always be my big sister, my beanpole, even when you're married to that guy in the kitchen and have Rachel's siblings in mind and on the way. Always, Claudie-girl."
He smiled and left the room, calling down the hall once he'd fastened the door, "Better make it eight, guys."
He stood outside the apartment building, smiling up at the window, holding two pebble sized rocks in his hands. "Dinner, hmm? I know a few good restaurants," he chuckled to himself, but said nothing as he tossed the rocks at the window he knew corresponded to the bedroom his little family was peacefully sleeping in. "It won't be long now, Claudia, I will see you at dinner… and it will play like a fairy tale."
"Oh my God, Toby, I just wanted to go drop this little harmless bag of trash into the outside disposal unit… thing. I'm not going to hurt myself, strain anything, or be kidnapped in the hallway, Toby. I don't need a guard dog!" CJ finally exploded. She'd remained calm and quiet for two days, glaring at him from the corner of her eye as he hovered. He'd walked her to the bathroom that morning, put her to bed the night before, and refused to let her roam from his sights – even to speak in confidence with her brothers or tell her father goodnight. "This is ridiculous! You're driving me crazy. I'm not going to break!"
William and Matthew looked upward and gave a collective groan, as CJ glared at Toby as if he were some sort of poisonous dart frog – green, red, and slimy. Their father chuckled, recalling his Claudia's childhood audacity and her now hormonally driven and shortened temper.
Toby sighed to himself and frowned, preparing to list all of the reasons that she shouldn't be left alone, the possibilities, fears, and useless but incessant worrying. He opened his mouth to begin his lecture, but made the mistake of catching her eyes and saw the undeniable tempest brewing there, just waiting to spew forth. He watched warily as she calmly set the small paper-filled trash bag at her feet, righted herself, and crossed her arms, preparing for battle.
Okay, Toby thought, maybe not allowing her to pick up wrapping paper by herself was going a little far, or maybe it was closing the windows and blinds in the bathroom before she went to relieve herself that did it. Pregnant women, Toby had learned, had to go frequently, and God help the idiot who stood in their way.
"CJ," Toby mumbled, bowing his head in an almost defeated gesture, "I think I might have overreacted."
"Might?" she questioned calmly, her slipper-clad foot beginning to tap ominously against the hardwood floor.
"Okay, yeah, I did overreact," he held up a hand, halting the speech he knew was coming. "I just, you know, worry," his voice lowered to a whisper only she could hear, "I love you, CJ."
The four men, three unsure what had it caused it, watched as she wavered, rolled her eyes, and let a faint smile cross her lips. Her hands dropped and CJ took one of his in her own, placing it flat against her belly as Rachel again made her presence known.
"She doesn't like it when you annoy me, Toby, and that," she indicated the kicking, "continuous and sometimes painful jolting makes me cranky and tired."
He nodded, eyes wide and innocent-looking as his hands roamed around in gradually growing concentric circles. "She's calming down."
"Yes," CJ smiled faintly, "she knows her Daddy is begging for forgiveness."
"Begging?" his eyebrows arched upward, matching his quirky grin.
"Yes, begging," she flirted, "feel free to continue," CJ stretched upward on her toes, "I'm not complaining.
"I'm aware of that, CJ, but your Dad's watching, and uhm, you know," he paused, face flushing a light shade of red.
"Aww… I'm sorry, Toby, I didn't mean to embarrass you," she placed a chaste kiss on his cheek, and pulled at the hem of her sweater so that it fell evenly at mid-thigh.
Toby shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans looking very much the guilty schoolboy as his flush faded beneath his beard.
"Hey…" he muttered, "I have an idea."
CJ turned and arched her left eyebrow, hands placed on her hips as she watched him expectantly, tongue tracing her lips. "Go on."
"Dinner, we'll go out to dinner. Maybe you'll feel better if we get out of the house for a while," he smiled winningly and was unprepared for the annoyed swat that came his way. "What?" Toby asked, defensively.
"It would make me feel better if you'd stop," she began, voice raising, but sighed and shook her head, "never mind." CJ threw up her hands, then relaxed, pausing to stare at him for another moment. "Dinner sounds nice."
"William, Matthew, Mr. Cregg? What time would be…?" Toby began as she turned, walking slowly back to the bedroom with a hand on the small of her back.
"Whenever's fine," William smiled, and was promptly elbowed by his father.
"Are you sure you don't want to have her to yourself? I know we're imposing."
"No, no you're not imposing, and please, join us. I…" Toby ran a hand through his remaining hair, "want her to be happy, safe."
William chuckled, "Watching her like a hawk will only piss her off," he reminded with a devilish glint in his eye.
"I know, I know. I worry."
"Seven?" the oldest interrupted, intent on breaking up the kangaroo- court-style argument before it had begun. The tiniest of smiles crossed his face as he remembered how obnoxious he'd been when his wife was pregnant – with their daughter especially. Funny, he thought, it didn't seem like forty years ago, and his face displayed a wistful expression as he thought of his long-gone wife and evenings spent in Napa, playing with his children in grass that he'd let grown too tall.
"Seven," Toby confirmed, then departed for the kitchen to fetch the beer Matthew had asked for, and William stood to his feet.
"I'm going to tell CJ, you know how women are, she'll need a few hours," he grinned, then snuck down the hall, reminded of days past when he'd done much the same – only to pounce with a childlike abandon and tickle her mercilessly, only stopping when she'd cried 'Uncle' until her throat hurt. Of course, he recalled, she'd outgrown him easily and the tables were eventually turned.
"My best friend" he thought to himself, before cracking open her bedroom door. "Beanpole?" When he received no response, he pushed the door open, panic insanely flooding him, and he grinned when he saw her.
The Middle Cregg lay in the middle of the bed she shared with her fiancé, curled on her side and facing the door, fast asleep with a rather pleased sort of expression on her face. The covers lay at her feet and her hair had fallen over her closed eyes, so he stepped forward and swept the strawberry blond locks from her eyes and pulled the blanket up to her chin. Fleetingly, he allowed his hand to rest over hers, then leaned down and kissed her forehead.
"You'll always be my big sister, my beanpole, even when you're married to that guy in the kitchen and have Rachel's siblings in mind and on the way. Always, Claudie-girl."
He smiled and left the room, calling down the hall once he'd fastened the door, "Better make it eight, guys."
He stood outside the apartment building, smiling up at the window, holding two pebble sized rocks in his hands. "Dinner, hmm? I know a few good restaurants," he chuckled to himself, but said nothing as he tossed the rocks at the window he knew corresponded to the bedroom his little family was peacefully sleeping in. "It won't be long now, Claudia, I will see you at dinner… and it will play like a fairy tale."